


Incantation

by PacketofRedApples



Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Drabble, Mentions of Blood, Mindfuck, Other, Paranatural Entities, The Hiss Incantation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25386301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples
Summary: Zachariah Trench walks into the projection but comes out affected. What exactly transpired inside?
Relationships: Casper Darling/Zachariah Trench, The Hiss/Zachariah Trench
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Incantation

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I will stop being gross, but I had this idea on a Sunday evening, and you know what? There is no god anyway… I’m a mess. I would apologize, but – alas, it’s too late. I wrote this in like an hour. It's nothing big, but you know... a fun little drabble. I love Trench. :)

The Red light overtakes every sense; it’s not just the sight that is affected. He blinks, feels the ringing in his ears. He bleeds but doesn’t flinch in pain, yet. When it becomes too much, the ringing goes on and on, growing louder—he can’t take anymore. He covers his ears, to feel the warm blood running out. He cringes at the sensation, shuts his eyes tight, and begins moving back to the lab.

He feels fear, for the first time in years.

This was something beyond one's comprehension. A Resonance stronger than anything one could encounter. His feet drag, he can’t summon the strength to walk, let alone run.

The Ordinary slide projector, this object of power, it was far more dangerous than he expected. While the death wish was what carried him in, the animal instinct to live was carrying him out. Like a blind rat, he walks in what feels the right direction, all his men dead. He saw them fall in front of him, and now it was his turn to choose—fight-or-flight. But he wasn’t going to die today, no.

On any other day, he would have stayed, but today he felt that he needed to live. A whisper in his mind, something engraving itself—today you stay alive, it says. Just keep moving. The Resonance’s intention for him was far more important. He understands that something is wrong, that something was in him. But he can’t comprehend it now.

He stops in his path, eventually, opens his eyes with a flutter of lashes, worried about what he will see. But there’s nothingness, just red. He floats up in the red light.

Zachariah Trench was lost in it. His mind chants.

You are a worm through time. The thunder song distorts you.

He can’t think, he can’t move, he can’t help it. He can’t do anything, but finally hear words instead of ringing, that weren’t his own and this continues, till he feels his tongue repeating it. Moving on its own.

Trench feels anxiety for the first time in years.

Trench feels relief for the first time in years…

A strong hold on him, as something but really nothing presses onto his body—just pressure. He breathes, finally, the terror rising once more.

A familiar voice, one of his closest friend, whispers in his ear: “Happiness comes. White pearls, but yellow and red in the eye.”

Trench whimpers as something rushes down. It’s not the effect of the voice, not the idea of the scientist—the words get the better of him. He feels as if something is reaching into him, into his soul. He feels naked and seen, but his clothes are intact. He feels disheveled and ruined, suddenly marked, but utterly tidy. A wrapped present, a gift to the Resonance.

Trench’s nerves all electrify, his body can do only so much not to curl, however, it does. He moans out, the chanting continues. His voice overtaking it. “Through a mirror, inverted is made right. Leave your insides by the door. Push the fingers through the surface into the wet.”

The voice of the doctor persists in his ear, he stiffens: “You’ve always been the new you.”

He hated, loathed it—loved it. Not because of Casper Darling, but because he felt cleansed. The loss of all his concerns and responsibilities overtook him.

Traitor. Casper Darling was a traitor.

It rushed through his mind and his stomach drops. He shuts his eyes again. The pressure on his body persists, pushing lower and lower, it settles on him. And he whispers the words again and again. You want this to be true. We stand around while you dream. Zachariah Trench screams, in horror and ecstasy, but nobody can hear him. It is only seconds before he is completely lost. Completely ruined. He feels alleviated of everything mortal, he feels like the words are true. He has always been this. He has always wanted this.

You want this to be true. We stand around while you dream.

The director feels the ground underneath him, he doesn’t move, the chant—the words. It’s the only thing he can feel now. It’s running through him, a sob escapes him, and he’s done.

He feels dirty, he feels memories flood back in then get shut out. He didn’t want this, but it was given to him. He shouldn’t have felt good, but it did. He is ascendant of what he was. He wants to die, he wants to leave.

“You gave us the permission in your regulations.” Echoes, lastly. And he opens his eyes to find himself so close to the exit. He scrambles to it.

The usually comforting visage of the head of research, bearing a concerned expression, the yellow walls, the crowd of pen pushers—it gives him no relief.

He has blood running out his ear, his suit unkempt, his eyes full of disgust, and his glasses shattered.

“I heard something out there.” He says, after a moment of long silence, when the medics rush in and Casper is by his side.

“There’s nothing there.” Dr. Darling argues. Traitor.

There was a storm looming over the Oldest House and Trench feels it coming, feels it approaching. His mind clears and he doesn’t know what to make of it anymore. The ringing in his ears returns, and he can only do so much to not collapse.

You want to listen. You want to dream. You want to smile. You want to hurt. You don’t want to be.


End file.
